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Thursday, August 25, 2011

In a month or so, I'll be having surgery. Tubal Ligation. For those of you who are confused, I'm having my tubes tied--permanent sterilization. (Ha! That paragraph almost rhymed! Song idea?)

This isn't a decision I've come to lightly. The Hubby and I have always known that we only wanted one child, and as The Kid gets older we have become even more certain of our choice to not have any more, hence the surgery.

For some reason, people have very strong feelings about this. I'm not talking about my family or my husband's family; it's acquaintances and perfect strangers who are the most vocal opponents of our (very personal) decision. Why, you ask? Well, usually the conversation goes something like this:

STRANGER: (admiring my child) So, now that he's almost in kindergarten, are you going to have another one?

ME: Oh, we're not having any more kids. We got one good one. We're done.

STRANGER: What? Why not? Don't you think he needs a playmate?

ME: Nope. We're good.

STRANGER: (pointing at my child) But you make such cute babies!

Yup. This is the number one argument I get from people who learn that my womb will remain barren from here out: I make cute babies.

What the heck, people? I'm supposed to keep populating the world just because I've got attractive genes? That's the best you've got? People can't procreate based solely on the fact that we want to see fresh, cute kids (or they shouldn't, anyway)!

Babies grow up, guys. And when they grow up, they are very expensive and opinionated. I'm looking at the bigger picture, here. Sure, a newborn is cuddly and soft and adorable, but chances are that fifteen years down the road she'll be telling me how much she hates me while simultaneously finishing the last of the Cheerios and milk. Now, I'm willing to go through that once, but twice is just a little more than I think I can handle. To those of you who choose to go that route, I applaud you. You are braver than I.

So no, Stranger, I will not be having any more babies for you to admire.* Sorry. If you'd like to see some cute babies, just Google them. Google is good for that sort of thing. So is YouTube. Heck, I'll even throw you a bone that I grew myself:

There ya go. You have my permission to print it out and post it on your fridge. Admire away! Just stop asking me to grow another one. There's no way it would turn out as cute as this one anyway.

*If, by some miracle, a rogue egg somehow gets through the roadblocks and finds itself fertilized and nestled up in my business, I'll make sure and love and hug that little baby just as I've done with The Kid. I'll be happy to do it, because someone would have to have some pretty big plans to beat those odds.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Click if you can't read it. Blogger apparently doesn't offer an image size in-between "too big for the screen" and "too small to read without squinting".

Mostly, people responded to this with "that's not true!" or "You're nuts!" type statements.

While I appreciate the love, I was not fishing for compliments. I was merely making an observation. I'm not upset about the fact that I no longer shine in every photo I'm in. I still have my wit and charm, after all. And I'm pretty smart.

The funny thing is, the reason these people think that I'm photogenic is because I look pretty good in all the pictures they've seen of me. Well, DUH! I'm not going to post photos of myself where I look bad! Who does that? (Oh...wait...I did that before, when this realization first dawned on me.)

What I'm saying is, as the years have gone by the percentage of post-able photos has decreased dramatically--and I'm OK with that. I don't think that I'm unattractive now as a result of being less photogenic. In fact, the other day someone said that I was "monumentally pretty", which is just about the nicest compliment I've ever gotten. (Seriously, it made my day. Thank you!)

The way I see it, becoming less photogenic can only work in my favor. Whenever someone who's only seen my pictures meets me in person, they're bound to think I'm more attractive than they thought I'd be. I may even start posting ONLY unflattering photos of myself, just to keep people's expectations low. Come to think of it, that would also help ward off stalkers!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I'm now in the final hour of being 31. Should I change my blog name once a year? That seems like a lot of work, and I'd have to change my email address, which would be very confusing. Therefore, I think I'll just be 30 forever. Hey, I can do whatever I want--it's my birthday. Heck, my mom has been 22 ever since I was born on her birthday 32 years ago. She says that she's given her birthday away every year since, so if she can do it, so can I.

The last year has been really hard, personally. Lots of family stuff has gone on that I prefer not to make public on a blog, but to say that it's been emotionally taxing would be a serious understatement. This year, more than ever, I've learned to accept myself and appreciate my health in ways that I never did before. Looking back on the past year, this is turning into a very introspective birthday for me.

I know what you're thinking--"but, Teri, you didn't even give me any notice! I didn't get a chance to get you a gift or anything!!!" Ah-ha! While that is true, there is still something you could do to celebrate my most recent year on this earth.

If you want to get me a gift, I
would appreciate it very much if you would donate to my cousin
Christina's Light the Night Walk team. Christina's daughter, Jane, has
been fighting leukemia for over a year and a half now. She's a very strong little girl, and she's responding well to treatment, but the battle is long for her family.

A
donation to their team will go straight to the Leukemia and Lymphoma
society, to provide for lifesaving research and patient services. Jane's
team has a long way to go before they reach their goal of $1500, and
every dollar helps. To contribute, just click on the "donate to team"
button on this page.

Thanks to all my wonderful friends in advance, and happy birthday to ME! :)

Friday, August 12, 2011

I recently went to see The Help on opening night. It was very crowded, and I was all by myself, so I ended up taking an empty seat between two women, one of which was the female half of an elderly couple. We struck up a conversation about the movie we were about to see, and the first thing she said was, "Of course you've read the book--" when I interrupted her with a firm, "Actually, not yet."

Just now, I had this Twitter exchange with the lovely and adorable Bon Bon, who had very likely just seen the same film:

I have a very strict policy when it comes to movies made from books: see the movie first. I realize that a lot of people think this is very strange but, to me, it makes perfect sense.

I look at movies and books as partnerships, rather than rivals. By using them in conjunction with one another, you get the most out of the story and, in my opinion, the best way to do that is to see the movie first. Here's why:

1. I don't go in with any preconceived notions about how the characters should look. If I read the book and picture Kathy Bates in my head, I'll be super-annoyed if the role goes to Julia Roberts. If I wait to read the book after the film, I just ignore the author's description of a character and picture whoever played the part in the film. Problem solved.

2. Reading the book second fills in plot holes from the movie. For instance, in The Help, Hilly has a cold sore in a few scenes at the end of the the movie. It led to a few laughs, but I'm guessing that there will be more explanation for that when I read the book. If I read the book first and that was one of my favorite parts, I would have been really annoyed that it was left out. Right now, though, I just have a mild curiosity about the whole thing.

3. It takes less time to see a movie than it takes to read a book. Sometimes you just want to find out what all the hype is about and be done with it.

4. You get to find out how the book ends before you even start it! This is a big one for me. I don't really like surprises, and I peek at the last page of a book well before I get to the halfway point. I like to prepare myself, especially if it's going to be sad.

5. I don't go in with any expectations. If I'd read the book before entering the theater, I would be looking forward to all kinds of scenes being played out on the screen that the writer may or may not have included in the screenplay. It's a known fact that the movie is almost never as good as the book. Seeing the weaker of the two first sets me up to enjoy both equally.

6. If I don't like the main plot of the movie, I know that I won't like the book. My time and money is precious to me. Chances are, if I'm not at least mildly entertained by the screen adaptation, I won't waste time reading the novel. It's like a little preview.

See what I mean? My way is clearly superior.

The only problem with my method is that it means I don't read a lot of popular books until years after their release. In fact, aside from biographies and classics, I pretty much only read books that have already been adapted for the screen. If I end up reading a book that later becomes a movie, chances are that I won't see it (My Sister's Keeper, anyone?). Is that harsh? Yeah, but I've got principles. And I stick to 'em, dang it.

If you've never tried my method, give it a whirl. You won't be disappointed.*

*If you find yourself disappointed by this method of film viewing/book reading, just go back to the old way. Whatever. I'm just a blogger, not a guru.

*The Help was a really good movie, by the way. I'll be reading the book.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Now that I'm no longer fettered by anonymity, I thought it would be fun to share a couple of songs I co-wrote and sang.

Both of these tunes were co-written by Paul "Pablo" Stubbs, who I met on a music collaborating website called Tonos back in the day. While Tonos didn't make it past 2003, the partnerships I made on that site still live on today.

Funny story: none of my songs were written with my co-writers in the same room as me...or even in the same State. Pablo lived in Texas while I lived in California, and then in Kansas. We've never actually met face-to-face, but we've been talking about getting together in person soon for a weekend songwriting session.

This first tune, "Every Now and Then", was written way back in 2002 or so. It's about falling in love with your best friend. My cousin and her husband actually used this song for the first dance at their wedding, which simultaneously flattered and humiliated me, since I had no idea it was coming. It's weird hearing yourself sing when you're least expecting it.

This one, titled "For You", is a basic love song. About love and stuff. When I wrote it, I actually had an unborn baby in mind as well as The Hubby. Versatile! This is the one that Ed Burns didn't deem good enough for his movie. Not that I blame him--it was probably too country for a New York film anyway. Whatareyagonnado?